


No Option

by MortyVongola



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anger, Asthma Attacks, Blood Vomiting, Character Death, Childhood Memories, Coughing, Diseases, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Force Sensitivity, I promise, I'm Sorry, LAM Disease, Memories, Prologue, Some Fluff, This is trash, Vomiting, childhood friendships, i'm trash, trashhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-01-29 01:00:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12619548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MortyVongola/pseuds/MortyVongola
Summary: The revised version of  the Battle for Starkiller.As a, normally ill behaved and Force Sensitive, princess of a distant Star System and long time friend of a certain ginger General, there are certain duties you must uphold. An arranged marriage is one of them. Maybe being traded for a large frost covered planet wouldn't be so bad. Maybe...Pre The Force Awakens, the first chapter is a prologue, and I'm trash. This is trash. There will be smut, eventually.[General Armitage Hux x Reader]





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I AM ALIVEEEEEEE AND VERY EXCITED TO FINALLY BE POSTING THIS!!!!
> 
> (follow me on twitter @MortyVongola for occasional updates. If you do follow me then leave your username in a comment and I'll follow you back :3 )
> 
> I've had most of it finished for a while, but I've been really busy with work and midterms so I hadn't had the time to finish it but now I have! AHAHHAHAHAHA
> 
> Thank you for everyone's support on my decision; Kay, ElmiDol, Alice_in_Yaoiland, Geranium9, and ka3la. Thank you so much for your comments and support. Here's what I hope you'll all enjoy just as much as the old one.
> 
> Please, enjoy the newly revised version of Battle for Starkiller. Note that some things will be the same but a lot is different.
> 
> ANYWAY ENJOY YAYAYAYAY

 Your planet was a large one, very influential in its own rights. It owned many other smaller planets, some barren and others full of life, if there were to be a war all sides would wish to have your people's support. The support of resources. But there was no war, at least not yet. Your mother insisted that there would be one soon, that she'd seen it. She even went so far as to say that you'd play a part in it.  
  
Unlikely, considering how old you'd have to be to do something like that.  
  
You took a deep breath, well as deep as you could, and removed the mask before you coughed into it. A six-year-old child doomed to die before 16, depressing. Well, it didn't bother you too much. If you were anything but a princess you probably wouldn't have even lived to be six. For that, you were grateful. This sickness came from your mother, her mother, and the mother before her and so on and so forth. A generational disease that only affected the women in your family. She had beaten her disease, though. So she hoped you would do the same.  
  
Something else you'd gotten from your mother were the visions, but instead of seeing visions of war all you saw was a red headed boy. Whenever you saw him he was sad or angry. Also, passionate about something. You liked the red headed boy. He had all the energy you wished you had. Another deep breath from your mask and this time you did not cough.  
  
It seemed the boy was an only child, much like you. But soon enough you wouldn't be. Your mother was supposed to have a boy soon, a little brother to replace you. Good, he would rule once you all died and that would be that. Sadly, you'd seen visions of your mother passing away during child birth and at times you could tell that she'd seen them too. Your mother said that your abilities were special, that very few people ever have them. She told you to keep them hidden and to force them down, that the more often you used them the more your soul would escape. A scary thought for a child.  
  
You suppressed them, kept them hidden like your fear of death. Who wouldn't be afraid? On the other hand, what six-year-old understood the concept of death in the first place? A cough wrecked your body and you pulled the mask away again. The door to the library opened and you quickly looked up and over to the door. Your eyes widened and you stared at the red headed boy standing in the door frame.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry. I hadn't realized someone was in here," the boy stated. His eyes trailed from you to the machine beside you and his look softened. "You must be the princess."  
  
You nodded and placed the mask back on your face and took a breath. After you moved it out of the way again you asked, "Who are you?"  
  
"I'm Armitage," he said and closed the door behind him. "My father is here, visiting with your father."  
  
" _Armitage_ ," you muttered.  
  
"Is it alright if I read in here?" He asked, looking at the man books carefully. You could only shake your head. No, you didn't mind. You'd been placed in here for his father's visit. Your parents wanted you safe but entertained and out of the way. They hadn't known he had a son. He was very polite and small. He couldn't have been much taller than you and just as thin. His skin was pale and freckled and he was trying his best to reach for a book that was a little above his head. You giggled a bit and he grew a bit red in embarrassment before deciding to grab a different book.  
  
Without thinking too much about it, you moved the first book to an angle so that it would fall with a tap. "Try again," you muttered. He looked back at you, still embarrassed by his initial failure but listened to you anyway. The redhead reached up and barely tapped the book before it fell to the floor. He raised an eyebrow at it before picking up the book and heading to a one of the couches to your left. Without saying anything else, he sat and began to read.  
  
It was a big heavy book, with red covering and golden trimmings. For a little while the only sounds in the room were your breathing machine and him turning a page every so often. Curious, you tried to peak at the name of the book, but it was in a language you did not quite understand. You tilted your head to the side and turned your breathing machine off. Slowly, you began to steady your own breath before standing and sitting beside him. He glanced at you quietly before turning back to his book. You peered over his shoulder, trying to see the words on the page. When the words were finally in your line of sight you frowned, not able to read them.  
  
“What are you reading?”  
  
“It’s a biography,” Armitage said. “An Officer who worked for the Empire wrote it.”  
  
“Mmm,” you raised your eyes to the ceiling. “Sounds boring.”  
  
“Well, I like these sorts of books.”  
  
“Do you really?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Or do you _have_ to like them?”  
  
He paused for a second and looked to you. The ginger boy furrowed his brow in thought and glanced at your shoeless feet before trailing his eyes back to your face. “I’m not really sure,” he shrugged and looked back down at his book.  
  
“Will you read it to me, then?”  
  
“I thought it sounded boring.”  
  
“It does, but I like to listen to things as I fall asleep,” you paused and coughed loudly, due to trying to contain the noise it wrecked your body a little too hard and you fell on his shoulder tiredly. Your eyes were scrunched up in pain as you tried to resist the urge to cough again, your voice was hoarse when you said, “ _Please_.”  
  
“Of course, princess,” Armitage said softly before beginning to read aloud, in your language, the words that were on the pages.

 

That was it, that was all it took for you to worm your way into Armitage’s very kind heart. The older he grew the more he’d come to see you and the longer he’d stay. The ginger would always bring a book to read to you, and you’d always listen. You liked his voice, and your never changing personality was the stability he needed. His father, always disappointed and always pushing him to do more, calling him weak and useless as if Armitage didn’t already _know_ that he’d have to be better to do what he was destined to do. But you, the sick princess who never forced him to do better, who was satisfied by his presence alone made him feel, if only for a moment, adequate.

 

To his dismay, as the both of you got older, you became sicker and sicker. At the edge of 14 your eyes changed from the expressive and lively one’s he’d grown to admire to dull and barely opened. Your soft voice, instead of maturing, turned hoarse and ragged as your lungs filled with more mucus and cysts. He’d laid with you and read to you during one of your more invasive procedures. Many times, he’d over hear what the doctors and nurses would say, and those led him to read more medical books than was necessary. After your 15th birthday he knew you did not have long left, and that scared him more than anything.

 

He was too attached to you, and without him there you refused the more strenuous parts of your treatment. Armitage was your only companion, even your little brother barely knew who you were. Your father was too busy trying to rule planets and your mother remained in a state of comatose after giving birth to your brother. The ginger haired boy was all you had.

 

You took as deep of a breath as you could, and coughs wrecked through you. Armitage paused in his readings to comfort you, he rubbed the back of your hand comfortingly. This was it, today was the end, you could feel it. With a bit of effort, you could look up at him. He sat in the chair beside your bed, soft red hair slicked back in a neat military style. His shirt was a button up, a light blue color that made his eyes really pop. The slacks he wore were black and his shoes corresponded. For someone who’s best friend was dying, he looked very well put together. A weak smile crawled onto your lips as you thought of how well he’d grown. No longer was he the thin pale boy who could barely reach a book in your library. He was a well-groomed man.

 

“What’s that look for?” He’d paused his reading once he noticed your staring. You shook your head, insisting without words that it was nothing. “You look like you’re laughing. This is a book about grooming foreign relations, how is any of it funny?”

 

“You… _you’re_ what I’m,” you breathed, coughed, and shakily grabbed his hand before continuing. “All…all grown uu-up.”

 

His grip on your hand tightened and he grew a bit uneasy. He thought on all the things he’d been through and the things to come before Armitage relaxed once more. “Yes,” he muttered and set the almost forgotten book down on your nightstand. “But somehow, I think you’ll outgrow me.”

 

You shook your head slowly and peered over at his coat hanging on the wall, the insignia in full view. “Your father…how is…how,” you furrowed your brow in irritation.

 

“He’s fine,” the irritation in his voice was as clear as freshwater pond.

 

“Work, how is that?”

 

“We’re still trying to establish ourselves,” Armitage used his free hand to rub his temple. “Let’s talk about something else. Are you feeling alright? Do you need anything?”

 

“Outside,” you breathed. “Take me…the garden,” you muttered.

 

“You know that I can’t do that,” he sighed. He gave your hand a light squeeze and watched you carefully. “Your IV is no longer mobile and you need the medication.”

 

“Armitage,” you spoke as sternly as you could. “I’m not going…the me-medicine…pointless.”

 

“Don’t say that,” he whispered. “You’re going to be alright. This is just another rough spot.”

 

“ _Please_ , Armi,” tears started welling in your eyes and you coughed again. A mixture of blood and mucus dribbled onto your pillow and you were too weak to ever try to wipe it away. Hux pulled a handkerchief out of his pant pocket and wipe your mouth with it gently. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it but it could very well be the last time. Every time he did it, you’d get embarrassed but at this point you were far too weak to care. It was coming, your expiration was within a few hours. You’d seen it before, he’d take you into the garden and you’d die there in his arms. It was a good place to go. “The garden.”

 

He was fighting with himself. If taking you out there would shorten your life then he absolutely did not want to, but you obviously really wanted to go and the last time you’d been outside was quite a while ago. Not only that, but he’d have to leave soon and he wanted to make sure you were asleep before he left. With a heavy sigh, he released your hand to rest it on your cheek softly, “If I do, will you get some rest?”

 

“Yes,” you said with a sad smile.

 

“Alright,” Armitage stood and began to unhook you from all the various machines and drips. Some of them began to beep but neither of you cared. He picked you up gently, one arm under your shoulders and the other under your knees. The ginger carried you out of the room carefully, no one stopped him and as he walked into the misty, cloudy, day. Your head lulled back, and Hux looked down at you in concern. “Princess,” he said softly and pat shook you a bit. “Princess.”

 

You opened your eyes weakly and coughed another mixture of blood and mucus on yourself. Armitage stopped walking and stared down at you in concern. “I’m taking you back,” he stated.

 

“No, no, no,” you whispered. You reached up and clenched his shirt gently. “ _Please,_ no. Here, it has to be…to be here.”

 

“What _has to_ be here,” he was irritated. No longer in the mood for games. “You are too weak, you need to rest.”

 

“Armitage,” you whispered, more fluid running down your chin. “You’re going to be…so great-t.”

 

He continued to look at you in concern but he’d stopped walking. His hand rubbed your shoulder lightly. “What are you saying,” he whispered. But you were coughing again and then you moved to press your face into his shirt. That perfect blue began to stain with the red and brown from your blood and with all the strength you had left you lifted your head enough to press a soft kiss to shirt covered collarbone. “Princess.” Armitage shifted you gently and when he felt you go limp once more he had to swallow his panic. He whispered your name gently, hoping to get you to open your eyes again but it did not work.

 

The ginger pressed his ear to your chest and when he heard nothing he grit his teeth in anger. He pressed his lips to your forehead in an angry display of affection before turning around and taking you back to your room. Like nothing ever happened, he laid you back down and hooked you back up as if nothing ever happened. Instead of a steady beep to monitor your heart, it was a long drawn out beep. His anger only got worse as he left, and when he got back to his ship he began to take it out on the metal that was not as important to the flight. Armitage was angry that you had died. But you hadn’t. Well you had, but not for long. To your surprise you woke up the next morning, feeling quite a bit like hell, but _alive_ known the less. Your mother however had died in your place.


	2. Relations Manager

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look another chapter within a reasonable time frame! (Don't get used to it, you'll only be disappointed)
> 
> I wanted to mention real quick that LAM (the disease I said reader had) is not hereditary and her case is also a very rare one because she got it before puberty (or at all for that matter because LAM is extremely rare to begin with). However, what is hereditary is her Force Sensitivity, which has caused the woman in her family varying types of complications. Okay? Okay, explanation over. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the feed back, I really appreciate it. A special thanks to BlindBeauty, Alice_in_Yaoiland, and aprilonestt for commenting! But everyone who reads this is awesome (I promise I'm not a suck up)
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy this chapter!

You’d gotten the chance to grow up, something you’d never thought you’d be able to do. After you’d made a full recovery, minus a lingering issue with asthma and a few benign tumors in your liver that caused occasional bouts of jaundice, you were great. With a second chance at life you began to study and work for your father, not only as an advisor but as the head of relations (both foreign and domestic so basically an ambassador). The spoilt behavior of yours never changed, but you found out that your attitude and status as princess helped when it came to your job. For the first time, you felt like you were completely and utterly living, instead of surviving.

 

 

You had turned 23 and your little brother was a 16year old brat. Now that you were no longer falling apart at the seams, you both got along like normal siblings. The staff hated the both of you alike for your immature pranks and shenanigans. One of your proudest moments was when you both had managed to fill one of your father’s head advisor’s offices with Bantha fodder. He’d been so angry he tried to get you fired, but your father only laughed as he tried to help the advisor pick straw from his hair. This was the future you truly wanted to see.

 

 

Despite your overwhelming happiness, there were still a few things that made you feel a bit off. The first; your upcoming, arranged might I add, nuptials to a New Republic fanatic Prince just to keep the peace between your system and his own, the second being your ever-growing inability to control your ‘special’ abilities especially when it came to visions, and finally the third was the fact that you had not seen your ginger friend in almost eight years. The last you’d seen him was when he came back a few days later to confirm that you were alive and that was it. Just a quick, ‘you’re alive, okay goodbye’ sort of thing. It was strained and awkward and it still made you feel uneasy when you thought about it. You missed him, but what were you to do? He was so busy, especially now with his promotion to Senior General after his father’s passing. Besides, if he didn’t want to see you that was his decision and there would be nothing you could do about it.

 

 

Other than those things, life was great. Sitting at your desk trying to file documents was not fun but it’s still something to do. After a while of sorting through different data sheets you checked your messages. With a mixture of surprise and delight you immediately began to respond to a message from the First Order. It seems they had requested a meeting. After a few days, you were extremely disappointed when instead of  ~~your best friend~~  Armitage greeting your small team of workers it was a normal group of military relationship manager. You refused to meet with him and you’d told your team to refuse all requests as you pouted for the rest of their visit.

 

 

They sent you another message a few days later, undoubtedly upset about their mistreatment, and you responded saying you refused to meet with anyone but their General. Their immediate response was to deny your requests. These interactions continued back and forth for months before they finally gave in and announced Hux’s impending arrival. Your excitement far outweighed whatever business attitude you had going. Even the day before your meeting with the favored ginger you were too excited to pay attention to your obnoxious fiancé on your ‘date’ (if you could even call it that. All he did anyways was talk about how great he was and all he was doing to bring positivity to the galaxies, the asshole) and he’d taken notice.

 

 

_“What’s the matter? Why are you staring so much?”_

 

 

_“I’ve been trying to think of a way to tell you this for the past hour but, you’ve had a huge chunk of meat in your teeth since I got here. It’s very unnerving.”_ (He cared about nothing but his appearance so you watched as he fretted about trying to find recover his so-called dignity, if you could even call it that).

 

 

When Hux’s ship had finally touched down and you watched from afar as your team greeted him you had to keep from triggering your own asthma. Too much excitement, too little properly functioning bronchioles. You’d worn a light blue dress, the same color as the shirt you’d stained so long ago, made sure to wear your silver and red jeweled tiara (he’d commented on how much he liked it before), and practically bounced up and down in childish excitement.

 

 

You wanted him to see the woman you’d grown to be and wanted him to be proud of you, but you also wanted to see if he’d changed. Before you walked out to greet him you had to sit down and take deep calming breaths but by the time you got out there you were almost as worked up as before. There were more people than just the General, which slowed your walk a bit, but he was there. Hat, coat, gloves, the full uniform. He looked even more handsome than you remembered. A bright smile crawled onto your face and his own eyebrows creased in confusion.

 

 

“Armitage, so lovely to see you again,” you beamed, arms opened in a hugging sort of gesture but he made no movement toward you.

 

 

“Princess,” he muttered, eyeing you wearily. “I was not expecting you.”

 

 

“Well, I am the head of relations.”

 

 

“I see.”

 

 

Despite his obvious denial of your hug, you moved in and gave him one anyway. He tensed and his nervous companion eyed you with trace amounts of fear, but as soon as you touched him, something clicked.

 

 

_“Armitage...”_

 

 

_You laid on the snow-covered ground, growing weaker and weaker. Blood was seeping from your mouth and sliding down the sides of your body as well as from a stab wound in your hip. You were pinned, something heavy was not only stabbing you but laying on top of your back. Despite your obvious need for help your hand was outstretched towards some other woman, laying with her back to a pile of snow and cushions. Blaster fire was being shot, X-Wings and TIE fighters shooting everywhere and at everyone, the ground was shaking but despite an obvious disdain toward that woman you kept protecting her using a power you were told never to use to keep her safe from the happenings around her._

 

 

_“Armitage!”_

 

 

“Princess!” That same ginger was calling you and almost shaking you. His hand was clenching your shoulders tightly. You blinked at him a few times, trying to clear the images from your mind.

 

 

“Yes, sorry,” you cleared your throat and stepped away from him. “Lunch, lets discuss business over lunch.”

 

 

“Are you alright?”

 

 

“I’m fine,” you looked from Hux to the timid officer behind him and the chrome clad trooper beside that man. “They can join us.”

 

 

You dismissed your team do go back to their other tasks and began to lead the group of officers toward a pre-set table on an upper floor. Once you’d all entered the room and took your respective seats you turned to Armitage, “Congratulations on your promotion. I’m sure it was well deserved.”

 

 

“Thank you,” he said and his lips tightened a bit before he added, “Congratulations on your engagement.”

 

 

You rolled your eyes and slouched in your chair a bit, “Uhg, please do  _not_  congratulate me on that. It feels more like a punishment than anything.”

 

 

Silence. Complete silence. You sighed and threw your hands up in a small jester of defeat. “It’s alright to relax, we’re doing business not fighting a war,” you paused, “Well, at least not against me.”

 

 

Before anything else could be said on the matter, the staff brought in the first portion of the meal along with wine. You’d never thought you’d need alcohol so badly. The tension in the room was palpable and while you  ~~downed the~~ wine took a sip of the liquid you locked eyes (are at least you think you did) with a chrome clad trooper to your right. The expressionless visor stared back at you and you couldn’t look away. 

 

 

_“...she’s pregnant...”_

 

 

_“...monster...”_

 

 

_“I’m tired of fighting...”_

 

 

_“...I love you, so please...”_

 

 

The voices echoed in your ears and you began to feel dizzy. When you went to set your glass down your vision blurred and instead of placing it in its proper place you knocked it over. A head splitting ache was growing and your chest felt tight. You stood quickly, the table groaned under your touch. It hurt so much. The lights in the room began to flicker and you clenched your chest tightly. To your dismay you could feel the beginnings of an asthma attack. More voices, some shrieking some whispering. It hurt, everything hurt and now you _couldn’t breathe_.

 

 

Someone had called the guards (had you done that?) and you began to fall. The ceiling was morphing into ground but someone caught you. A guard? No, too comfortable your guards had to wear armor and instead of rough protective gear your back felt soft cloth. You wheezed and spluttered, trying your best to begin to breathe again. The hands that held you began to run along your arms and a soft voice telling you to relax, to _shhhhhh._

The voices echoed and roared and they wouldn’t stop. It hurt, your chest hurt, so much pressure. More voices joined the fray that was your jumbled mind. Your vision was beginning to darken and the floor looked the most comfortable you’d even seen it. Then it began to get further and further away from you and you _still_ could not _breathe_! What a day to forget your breathing mask, and there it was, being placed on your face. The medication was diffused into your throat and then your airways. Slowly your lungs began to relax but your mind did not.

 

 

That _woman_ was back in the forefront of your mind. The one from your vision, the woman that you hated but needed to protect. She wouldn’t leave your mind no matter how hard you tried to remove her. A distinct feeling of disdain and anger filled you and out of the corner of your eye you saw that flash of chrome. When that trooper left your vision so did that woman, and you were surprised to see Armitage standing in-front of you, his expression a bit tight (no doubt trying to keep from looking concerned or anything similar to that). Three guards were around all of you, more than likely it was one of them that had handed the man holding you your mask. Said man was the nervous officer that had sat to Armitage’s left.

 

You blinked a few times at him. Not a dark hair out of place on his head and eyes just as dark staring down at you. Though he was not actually smiling at you his eyes were and that was a great comfort in and of itself. The voices, as if in unison, began to say the same thing with different tones. Some were even in your own voice.

 

 

_“Mitaka!”_

_“Dophled Mitaka…”_

_“Lieutenant…”_

_“…Lieutenant Mitaka…”_

“Mitaka,” you garbled into your mask. Undoubtedly, no one really understood what you said, when you had enough confidence in your voice and ability to breathe you removed the mask quietly. “My apologies, an asthma attack is no way to make friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love Mitake, he's so cute. I can't wait for Reader and Mitaka to be bestest buddies haha


	3. Relations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I keep doing this! I really need to get my update schedule together, uhg. 
> 
> Thank you so much to; Alice_in_Yaoiland, BlindBeauty , and ka3la for commenting on the last chapter! You guys are fantastic, aaaaaaaaaaaaand I love you~
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy this long overdue update.

After your asthma attack you practically forced Armitage and his companions to stay one more night. You had ordered the guards to make sure they stayed  ~~not that that would stop them, seeing as they are also soldiers~~  and they did. The next morning you made sure to get as much of your duties done as possible so that you would have time to discuss what they wanted, but more importantly, so that you could have time to spend with Armitage. There was one question you really wanted to ask, but you doubted he would answer unless the two of you were alone.

 

 

However, your plans had to come to a bit of a halt when  ~~the bane of your existence~~ your fiancé showed up unexpectedly. He demanded your attention all morning and kept commenting on things he found displeasing about your palace. The man was nothing but a nuisance, and if he continued you would not be able to speak with the First Order.

 

 

“Brother, I need you to distract him,” you muttered. Your brother looked at you with a blank expression, his arms full of data-pads and documents.

 

 

“I’m a bit busy,” he responded.

 

 

“Yes, but he is annoying me.”

 

 

“And you are annoying me,” he deadpanned. You groaned loudly and placed your hands in your hair, further messing up the hard work that you had put into it.

 

 

“I’m your older sister, you have to do as I say.”

 

 

“That only worked on me once,” he responded and set his stack down on his desk. “Besides, he’s  _your_ fiancé, should you not be excited to see him?”

 

 

“I hate him and you know it.” You heaved a dramatic sigh and threw yourself back in the chair you were sitting in. “I’m trying to meet with the First Order and he’s taking up all of my time. He’s eating it like some sort of-of-of space worm!”

 

 

Your brother rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “I can meet with the First Order in your place. After all, anything that is planned with them has to be approved by me.”

 

 

“No!” Your exclamation had been louder than intended, but that did not stop you from continuing, “It is my job, the job that I earned by work not by birthright. The First Order General came to meet with me.”

 

 

“Ah, it’s that redhead again, isn’t it?” You brother smirked at you and tilted his head to the side. “The one that you always talked about. You want to meet with them so that you can ask him why, don’t you?”

 

 

“You know, that haircut looks terrible on you, we should really address that with your groomer.”

 

 

“Stop trying to change the subject, sister.”

 

 

You pressed your lips together in a firm line. A few seconds of silence went by before you finally gave in to his stare. “Fine, yes, it is the redhead, yes I do want to ask him that question. But can you blame me?”

 

 

“Yes, you are letting it get in the way of your duties as our princess,” he scolded. After uncrossing his arms he scratched at the black markings on his cheek. He let out a long sigh before glancing at the pile on his desk and then turning back to you. “How long do you need?”

 

 

A smile began to grow on your face and you stood quickly, “Just give me until lunch. We will be eating in the garden, you are more than welcome to join us.”

 

 

Your brother let out a long drawn out groan, “Fine, but have to do my strategy lessons for the next week.”

 

 

“Deal.”

 

 

_“Look, Armitage! These flowers are so pretty!” The redhead gave you a bright smile. He watched you pick the purple flowers off of the bushes and set them in a pile at his feet. It was the first time he had ever seen you outside. You were wearing a mask over your nose and mouth, which muffled your words, but it helped make it easier for you to breathe._

 

 

_“They are very pretty,” he responded. The ginger tilted his head to the side in curiosity as he watched you begin to string the flowers together. You ran past him toward another bush of yellow flowers and began to pick at those, adding them to your string. “What are you making?”_

 

 

_“A gift for my mom,” you said with a smile before continuing your work, adding different colors to the braid every so often. Armitage was so engrossed in watching you he failed to notice said mother walk up behind him. She sat down beside him slowly, most likely made more difficult due to her pregnancy, and leaned back on her palms a bit._

 

 

_“You are a very good kid, Armitage,” she sighed and looked over at you with a kind smile. “It makes me happy to see that she has at least one proper friend.”_

 

 

_Your mother turned to face him completely, a smile almost identical to your own on her lips. She placed a hand on top of his head and pat it softly. In a voice that he would never forget she asked “Please, stay by her side.”_

 

 

_It was the last thing she ever said to him, and he nervously muttered, “I will.” If not for your sake then for your mother’s. As you ran over to give your mother the necklace of flowers, Armitage felt both accepted and alone._

 

 

The ginger stepped out of the shower, his lips pressed together in a firm line. He ran a hand through his yet hair, pushing it back, and grabbed the towel he had set out prior to the shower. Once the towel was secured around his hips he walked back out into the room that he was staying in. It was the same room he and his father stayed in when he was a kid.

 

 

A little further down the hallway was the library, the place where he had met you and where he often visited or sometimes slept in. His father never allowed him to sleep on the bed, saying he had to become more adaptable to certain situations. Amritage clicked his tongue in distaste.

 

 

Being around you again had brought up many old memories and pains. Things he’d rather not have to deal with now. Back then, the war was nothing more than an idea, a spark, now it was in full swing and he could not afford to  _sentiment_ get in the way of that.

 

 

_“You are too close to her. Just look at the dismay her death has caused you,” Snoke chided as he leaned further back in his chair, a frown almost permanently etched on his disfigured face._

 

 

_Hux clenched his fists at his sides, a feeling of misery and defeat washing over him. “Yes, Supreme Leader.”_

 

 

_A slight hum rang out in the chambers as Snoke shook his head and closed his eyes in a bit of exasperation. “Chin up, boy. The girl lives.”_

 

 

_“What?”_

 

 

_“But until she becomes of use to us, there is no need for you to see her. Do not let sentiment get in the way. Is that clear?”_

 

 

_“Yes, Supreme Leader.”_

 

 

Armitage finished dressing, and sat on the edge of the bed. He pulled his data-pad out and began to sort through the documents that required his attention. Staying an extra day would set him back in his work but you had almost demanded that they stay. Mitaka had sent a message to Hux earlier, stating that guards had come to take him to ‘celebrate’ the brunette for assisting in your rescue.

 

 

_“General, what do we do?”_

 

 

_“Calm her down, Lieutenant! Phasma, get the guards.” And as Mitaka caught your falling form, the General could do nothing but stare fearing that doing anything else would break Snoke’s command._

 

 

A headache was beginning to grow from the base of his neck and Hux put his data-pad down in hopes of keeping it at bay. He laid back against the bed and closed his eyes, attempting  ~~and failing~~  to concentrate on what he would say when he met with you later and how he would convince you to give him what he needed, but a gentle knock on the door brought him out of his  ~~stressed~~  thoughts. When he opened the door, the ginger had been expecting to see a guard, not you standing there and greeting him with a smile.

 

 

“Hello, Armitage,” you chirped. “I apologize for the delay, but I am ready for our meeting.”

 

 

“Are you sure we should not be meeting with someone else? Or that you will be alright?”

 

 

“Yes, there is no need for concern. Come, we will discuss things as we walk.”

 

 

The ginger’s eyebrow twitched at your commanding tone but did not comment on it. As you began to walk down the hallway, he paused briefly before grabbing his data-pad and following behind you. It seemed as if you were distracted, your hands fidgeting, head held high but eyes trailing anywhere from the floor to the wall. After a bit of you not talking, he decided to begin the conversation instead. “The First Order would like to-“

 

 

“Why did you not-” You spoke at the same time, both statements lost in the jumble of words. Armitage blinked at you and you blinked at him in kind.

 

 

“My apologies, Princess,” he started and made a smooth gesture with his hand. He was slightly bent at the hip, bringing him down somewhat to your level. His gaze was stern, no doubt having already guessed what you were going to ask, and his lips were set in a confident line. “You first.”

 

 

Steeling your resolve, you furrowed your brow and placed your hands on your hips. “You never came back, after you found out I was alive. I want to know why, Armitage. I also want to know why you have been acting so unfamiliar with me.”

 

 

“Shortly after your, revival, my father passed and I had to take his place. You know how hard it was for me to find time before I became General, let alone after,” he lied. A planned lie, and you were not going to stand for it.

 

 

“I know you are lying,” you said as you narrowed your eyes at him. Without skipping a beat, you grabbed his chin and made sure he was feeling your glare in full. You searched his unwavering green eyes. The familiar color made a warmth spread in your chest and throughout the rest of you. Annoyingly, that soft heat began to calm your anger and you closed your eyes and let go of him before a different emotion replaced it. When you let him go you took a step forward and crossed your arms over your chest, a heavy frown on your lips. “For the sake of what is left of our friendship, I will not push for the truth.”

 

 

Hux clenched and unclenched his fists, not sure what to do with your sudden change in attitude. He had expected you to get upset, he had also expected you to lash out at him but you had done the bare minimum to be considered upset. Again, he clenched and unclenched his fists but he also took a step closer to you. If he lost his relationship with you he doubted he’d be able to get what the First Order, no what _he_ needed from you. In a slight lapse in judgment as well as a will to preserve what little affections you had left for him, he wrapped his arms around you, your back now against his chest. His voice was barely audible as he whispered, “I did miss you.”

 

 

Your entire body stiffened and a strong blush crept along your cheeks and the tips of your ears. A mixture of elation and infuriation coursed through you and but before you could act on either emotion, he had let you go. The ginger was already a few steps ahead of you. It was your turn to stare at his back in confusion and he did not turn to look at you again. Finally coming back to your senses, you sped walked to catch up to him. When you were at his side you could hear the quiet rumbling in his chest. You elbowed him, a playful smirk on your lips. “What is it?”

 

 

“Your face, your expression was comical,” he chuckled. “You looked completely stunned.”

 

 

“You are an ass.”

 

 

He shoved back at you with his elbow, his chuckle only getting louder when you pushed at his arm. For the first time in eight years, you felt like you had your best friend again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw TLJ and I looooooooved it. I also watched The Greatest Showman and now I want to write a circus AU. Would guys read that?


	4. Invitatioin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I didn't abandon you allllllllllllll, I'm just horrendous at updating!
> 
> I'm also not completely satisfied with chapter, disappointingly enough.
> 
> Anyway, I've been working a lot lately so I've been having a hard time finding the time to write so I apologize because it does not look like my update pattern is going to be getting any better. 
> 
> But, I hope you all enjoy this installment, I personally think it could be better buuuuuuut it is too late at night for me to fix it sooooooooooooooooo

“I truly am sorry, however as we are right now, we would not gain _anything_ by allowing you to build bases on our planets. In fact, we have more to lose. My fiancé’s people have chosen to align themselves with the New Republic,” you frowned as you set the data-pad, alight with their proposal, down on top of the table in front of you. “I can personally sponsor the First Order, but only until I am married.”

 

“I see.” Clipped, aggravated, you could even see the veins on the ginger’s forehead twitch as he clenched his fists tighter. Your frown deepened and you typed a few things up on your data-pad. A hologram came up from a projector in the table and displayed a contract which you had already signed.

 

“My personal sponsorship will not only include a large sum, but resources as well. I can also guarantee you a meeting with my broth- the crown prince after I am married. His favor will give you what you ask for.”

 

“And how much longer do we have then, Princess? The First Order cannot afford to _wait_ on political _nuptials_!” Hux’s words were punctuated by his abrupt stance. The amount of anger he displayed caused your own to rise and you pressed your finger down on the table and leaned forward with all the authority you were born with.

 

“Now see here, _General_ , I am offering you and your cause not only a small _fortune_ but enough _fuel, materials,_ and _food_ to keep your men satisfied for more than a few years. I am offering it out of what _our_ relationship _used_ to be, not out of kindness or a silly belief in your cause. So, Armitage you _will_ take this deal or you will get nothing from us.”

 

He continued to stand and that bothered you more than his outburst. You could hear his clothing shift as he took deep breaths in order to keep his anger under control. If his chrome wearing ‘trooper or Lieutenant had been there to hear the way you had spoken to him, you were sure there would be far more issues. Armitage ran a hand over his gelled hair and you narrowed your eyes at him.  “Be reasonable, Armi. I know you wish for more, but this is the best I can do for now.”

 

“We’ve been here far longer than intended and just to walk away with _scraps_. Forgive me _Princess_ but I am more than a little displeased,” he spoke as he took a few steps closer to the table and began to read over the document. “This is a war we’re fighting, not a battle. I need places to _put_ my people, to have them work.”

 

“The only things you could offer in return are protection,” you said and crossed your arms over your chest. “Our planets are thriving, we are at peace. The only possible threat to us is being taken care of by my marriage. Your protection would only cause us further harm.”

Armitage clicked his tongue in distaste and narrowed his eyes at the projection. He stared at it, looking it over, reading every word, and turned his sharp gaze towards you once more. “Can you guarantee his favor? Your brother’s, that is.”

 

“Yes,” you stood and walked over to his side, the data-pad in your hand. You handed the electric device over to him along with a stylus to sign the document with. “You will have your bases, just not immediately.”

 

“When is your wedding?”

 

“What?”

 

“You said I have to wait until you are married, when is that? How long must I wait?”

 

A sigh left your lips and you began to pull at the undecorated strands of your hair. Distress written all over your face. “I _must_ be married before my brother is 18 years of age. His _17 th_ birthday is in two weeks and I will be married shortly after that. At most, you would probably only have to wait three months.”

 

He thought for a few more moments before nodding his head, “Very well then,” he said and signed alongside your own signature. “I will send this to myself, which will in turn give you a way to contact me as well, if any issues should arise.”

 

After a few more details were fleshed out, Armitage and his people left. You couldn’t stop thinking about him and the entire time you were supposed to use spending time with your fiancé, was instead used to think about how much your red headed friend had changed. When the two of you had spoken in the hallways, you’d thought he had only changed a little but now you’d seen how time had made him angrier or how battles had scraped at his patience. What a life, he must lead. You knew of responsibility and how taxing it could be but the charge of your people had fallen on your father’s shoulders and it would eventually fall to your brother’s. Would your brother turn out to be similar to Armitage?

 

No, he wouldn’t. Your father was not cruel like Brendol had been to his son. The stories Hux used to tell you of his father’s cruelty often made you cry when you were little. Those hands that Brendol had forced to kill classmates Armitage had used to soothe you when you could not handle an injection or more invasive procedure. That anger he had displayed must have been a part of his business side. You continued to think on that as you laid down in your bed and attempted to sleep.

_You were walking a bit behind your brother, the ladies in-waiting trailing behind you. Your father was a bit ahead of your brother, his advisors trailing him much like your ladies did to you. Those that followed your brother were younger representatives of the other planets your monarchy ruled. Everyone wore ceremonial white. The guards that surrounded all of you kept their focus straight ahead as your family walked forward. A smile crawled onto your face as your realized it was your brother's birthday celebration._

_The crowd that cheered around all of you was marvelous. They kept the path clear and waved. A few of the local women threw flowers at your brother and began whistling. He was blushing and doing his best to keep his head down which caused you to laugh. You made your way through his small crowd of representatives and pat your brother on the shoulder, which only made him more embarrassed. One of the bright purple flowers got caught in his hair and you made sure to put it on full display behind his ear._

_“The older you get, the less flowers we’ll have,” you teased and pat his head gently._

_“I distinctly remember a large abundance of flowers being thrown for you as well,” he retorted._

_“Yes, but mine were not as pretty as these,” you chuckled and picked one up off the ground before it could be stepped on. It was the same shade of purple as the one in your brother’s hair. You twirled it by its stem and brought it up to your nose to smell and your eyes trailed the crowd as you took a deep breath in. The need to search for something weighed heavy on your chest, but you were not sure what you were looking for. Was it a person? Armitage briefly crossed your mind and you began to look around for him._

_“If you are looking for our friends from the First Order, they are already by our seats.”_

_“Ah, yes, of course they are,” your grip on the stem of the flower tightened a bit. Were they really all you were looking for? If you looked ahead you could even see them. The small group clothed in grey, black, and white all standing at parade rest. Your favorite ginger at the head. There was someone new, though. A tall man ~~was it a man? It could very well be a very large and flat chested woman~~ dressed in all black and wearing a mask stood a bit away from the group Armitage stood in front of. You could sense him, much stronger than you could sense anyone else. He felt familiar but you had never met him. The visor of his helmet seemed to stare straight through you and that feeling of anxiety hit you once again. _

_If Armitage was not who you were looking for, and that odd man was not it either, what were you in search of? That feeling nagged at you, pulling at your happiness and replacing it with worry. What was it? Who was it? Was anything out of place? The closer you got to your seats the more concerned you felt. “Sister, what’s the matter?”_

_“I’m not sure. Something just does not feel right.”_

_“Are you ill? Do you need any assistance?” Your sweet little brother was worried about you._

_“No, I’m fine,” you let out a soft breath. “I feel fine, but there’s this nagging feeling that something is off.”_

_“Maybe it’s that flower,” your brother pointed to the one in your hand as you all entered the seating area, the crowd still surrounding you all. “You have all but crushed the poor thing.”_

_“Oh,” you looked down to the now shriveled plant in your fist. “Perhaps you’re right. I should pick up another one.”_

_The guards spread out, guarding where your family would be sitting. Your father was the first to sit, your brother was next and sat to your father’s right. Your seat was farthest to get to, which was to your brother’s right. The chair to your father’s left was always reserved for your mother. As you walked down toward your seat you spotted a beautiful red flower and stooped to pick it up._

_What was once a feeling of anxiety turned into a feeling of panic. Your sprung up and caught sight of what had put you at such unease. Someone in the crowd had a blaster and the barrel was aimed right for your brother. Before you even realized what you were doing, you began to run to your brother. To you, it all seemed to move in slow motion. The trigger was pulled, people began to scream, the ‘boom’ echoed, and you turned your body so that you could shield your brother from the shot. Your guards were too slow and the blaster fire was headed right toward you. A shaky breath escaped you and you closed your eyes, preparing for the pain._

The pain never came, and you sat up in your bed with a hand to your now sweaty forehead. You’d had that dream for a week straight. The same dream, every time without conclusion. Ever since your meeting with the first order thoughts of war plagued you, and this dream was of no help. You tossed the blankets off your body and rubbed at your face once more. Exhaustion seemed from every portion of your being, but you did not want to see that dream again. Despite the protest of your muscles you stood and began to pace around your room. Was this dream just a dream or was it a vision?

 

You prayed to the Maker that it was not a vision. If it was, your brother was in grave danger. Not wanting to think about it anymore, you grabbed your data-pad and opened the doors to your balcony and stepped outside. The crisp night air made goose bumps pop up on your heated skin and you rubbed your arms to try and calm them. You sat down on one of the plush lounging chairs and began to scroll along the work you had set aside for tomorrow. Even though your body begged for your sleep you continued to deny it in hopes of keeping that dream away for as long as possible.

 

When you began to type responses to some of the representatives of the neighboring planets, after re-reading their messages several times, you realized your brain was in no state to coherently respond to business proposals. Many of your responses had incoherent typos and an overall lack of focus caused you to give up on trying to work. You put your data-pad down and ran a hand through your messy hair with a loud yawn. The comfort of your lounge chair was not helping you with your attempts to stay awake. The idea of getting a drink was pleasant, but alcohol always made you tired.

 

You picked your data-pad up once more, and on a whim, sent a brief message to Armitage. What you had hoped it asked was something along the lines of ‘ _Do you have enough supplies?’_ and surprisingly, he responded almost immediately with _‘Your message is poorly typed. I do not understand the question.’_. With that, you decided it would be best to call him.

 

While the line rang, you tried you best to make your hair look presentable. You even started to straighten your nightgown out but of course, that was when he answered the projected call. His expression was sour and he stared at you in an aggravated manner. “I don’t have much time for calls like these, Princess. If you _must_ speak with me than a message would be much more convenient.”

 

“It is very early in the morning, Armitage. How scandalous of you to call me.”

 

“You are the one that called me.”

 

“Was I?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Was I really?”

“ _Yes_.” He was getting increasingly more aggravated.

 

“Hmm, well I only did it because I knew you were _dying_ to speak with me.”

 

“Are you drunk?”

 

“No, just very tired.”

 

“Well, my contact information is for business use only. So, if you’ve called to waste my time I will be going.”

 

“No, Armitage, wait!” You panicked, if he hung up you’d have to think about that dream again. The fear was written all over your face and he took notice of it.

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

“I’m worried about your supplies, do you have enough? We can negotiate for more, if need be.”

 

“You are afraid of something,” he must’ve been at his desk because you could see him move forward, tilt his head back, and press his lips together. “What is it?”

 

“My brother’s birthday celebration will be next week,” you licked your lips and twisted the ends of your hair. “Please, I would like it if you and some other First Order members would join us as my personal guests.”

 

“How would that benefit the Order?”

 

“There will be many there to celebrate. Most of which have deep pockets and even deeper mineral deposits on their planets. It would be good exposure and good marketing.”

 

He nodded his head and seemed to scribble something down on his desk. The ginger looked back up at you, his eyes showing a softer emotion you could not place. “Is that all?”

 

You hesitated a moment before nodding, “Yes.”

 

“Get back to sleep, Princess.”

 

“Goodnight, Armitage.”

 

“Yes, goodnight,” he hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a side note I need more fanfic writing friends! T-T I feel like I already annoy the crap out of the one that I do have.

**Author's Note:**

> By the way, if any of you are wondering what the Reader has/had, its called LAM. Look it up, it sucks.
> 
> If anyone could help me pick out a better name for this story, that would be awesome please and thank you.


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